Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Amidst the strong, eternal snowstorms that bathed the mountainous tundra, there stood a majestic castle—for hundreds of years, it reigned.

If not for the stark lighting that beamed out of the towering windows, it was so hard to determine with such a camouflage—this became the living proof of beacon for the wanderers in the northern territory.

From above, it looked like ants were coming in and out of the castle; it was that bustling and vibrant despite the given environment.

It was, truly, a masterpiece.

Athan descended through a puff of smoke, gliding around, and watched the spires that reached the heavens from its great keep and the rigid walls of bricks that held the ice towers altogether.

He heightened his senses once more and tried to peer through the interior of the castle; as complex as it may be, he somehow tried to gauge a few remarkable people found within.

After scouring around, he noticed Mystique, sleeping soundly in her bed-chamber. Her vital signs were dim, almost void of life.

Mystique had a slim chance of survival, and she needed to escape from the precarious situation that he did. A surge of acute pain wrung his heart.

'Am I still too late to change things the way they are?'

All Athan could think of was such bold claims from what they heard firsthand; it was a good thing he didn't become too complacent; his eyes then greeted Nero's figure, going.

'Nero is already on his way down. I could only hope for the best—'

With his crimson eyes sheened, he noticed a great aura, brimming with a blue flame.

An intimidating power that roamed around the interior walls of the castle.

'His Grand Ducal Highness, Arnold Blackwell…'

Though as much as he wanted to believe who it was, the strange steps from the silhouette seen were jarring to his eyes.

Almost as if an adult embodied a happy child, walking away after taking a treat. He ought to blink his eyes when the vibrant figure stopped its tracks.

The man stood from a distance, and his neck turned to the side.

'Damn!'

Only then, a grave chill crept Athan's heart when it was like Arnold's gaze pierced through the walls and to his soul. He dove as fast as he could and landed on a nearby thicket of pine woods.

"That's scared the hell out of me," he muttered, dusting off the snow and ice that donned on his protective garment.

He was just within the perimeter of the castle, and it's time to make his entrance. He tugged the hem of his hood after smoothing down the flared fabric and strode towards keep's frontage.

When the patrol guards, who remained alert with the traffic and inspecting everyone else, their eyes gaped from his noble features.

"Ebony hair and—and crimson eyes!" The rear guard, in leather armor with alloy braces and greaves, jolted and patted the other guard beside him. "G—Greetings to the—"

The guard had his jaw locked with a black mist hovering by the chin. His eyes trembled as though he would be eaten alive. Meanwhile, Athan hushed him and beamed, making them nod in silence.

"Has His Grace safely returned?"

Both of them nodded, but it was cranky and slow; from their grave faces, something must have happened. He thought of what Matthew pulled up his sleeves.

"I hope His Grace doesn't mind for the sudden visit."

There was a tinge of hesitation from both guards as they looked at each other; their arched eyebrows spoke to him that he wasn't that much welcome, at least at the very moment.

"But Your Highness, His Grace have mentioned he doesn't want to entertain any of the guests that would come into the castle until further notice."

"I suppose this shall suffice If I present this?" Hereon, Athan revealed the Imperial insignia, gleaming afore their eyes.

The crown prince came prepared.

"A—Allow me to escort you, Your Highness."

"Very well." he nodded.

Athan calmed his heart down as every step he took led to the large door that opened by the guards stationed several feet away from him.

Instead of feeling boggled by it, he steeled his heart that he would face him once more.

Fear.

Anxiety.

But most of all, the anger that built up for the longest time dwindled. Athan reflected.

'Perhaps, none of this turned out this far if only I…'

As much as he wanted to deliver the greatest retribution for the lifetime, it wasn't the right time.

The door creaked, slowly making gaps, and from his fierce indigo eyes gazed so coldly, as cold as his statuesque.

Where the rumors, the strongest wizard that roamed in the parched lands, came to life and brought more fear to loyal subjects of the Dysnomia Empire.

The one who settled the north into an eternal winter wonderland conferred the title 'Polar King' and 'Frost Thaumaturge.' in his name.

All the while—not a fleeting memory Athan had—dulled and blinded with anger and revenge as this man had turned into insanity; but right now, it was that kind of gaze he was deeply familiar with...

Almost as if it spoke to him.

Fear.

Anxiety.

He peered at his clenched fist, noticing the amount of restraint he had just to save the crown prince's face.

"It must have been urgent, do speak what's on your mind," Arnold spat at Athan, and with the former's height a few inches higher than later, and had the same cold gaze dawned upon his crimson eyes.

'He went on straight to the point, not wanting to entertain me further.' Athan clenched his jaw as much as he kept an amiable and diplomatic facade.

"I don't have much time—"

"I would like to make a proposition, Your Grace."

"A proposition?" Arnold scoffed; he let out an icy breath—like a sigh—but it sure stung his neck and chin. "Interesting… Go ahead."

Athan tried his best to alleviate the atmosphere through their conversations, but Arnold shut him down every time.

"Although first, where is she?"

It was then Arnold snapped, letting go of his rage that bottled up; he raised his hand—flashes of ice shown.

"You shameless mutt—!"

"Father…"

Her sultry voice echoed.

Both of them turned around, taking a glance at the lady that was near the staircase. She slowly strutted down with every step.

Athan gulped hard. 'Was she ever this beautiful before?'

Her appearance already astonished him enough, and he was surprised to learn the familiar creature caught in sight.

'Why is Nero on her arms?!'